


Hairpins

by RoseThorne



Series: postRT56-verse [2]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 02:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20716886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThorne/pseuds/RoseThorne
Summary: Liam wakes to discover that Break hasn't even changed from out of the clothing he wore to Yura's party. Break/Liam. Set after "What the Dormouse Said" and before "Things Left Unsaid.Originally published on FFN on Feb 15, 2011.





	Hairpins

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Pandora Hearts is owned by Jun Mochizuki, Square Enix, et al.

Liam knew, the instant he woke, that he had been moved. It wasn't a matter of physical sensation—though when he paid attention he could feel that he was in a bed, which was likely better for his body than the floor. It wasn't anything rational; he just _knew_.

A little bit of that might have been that Break was no longer holding him.

It was that thought that made him open his eyes instead of settling back and letting sleep reclaim him.

He was surprised to find himself on the right side of the bed. He recognized Break's bed; all of the Rainsworth bedrooms had four poster beds, but only Break's had a purple canopy. That he was in it meant that, at least here, Break saw no reason to hide their relationship. Or, given that he was on the right side of the bed, Sharon might have decided for him.

This had, in the entirety of their time together, been Break's side of the bed, since both of them preferred to sleep on their right sides, and Break had declared that Liam was too tall to be the little spoon.

It took him a moment to focus beyond blurs, but when he did he found Break standing by the window, one hand fiddling with his hair, still held to his head by the hairpins. Liam had to squint to see his expression: pained, irritated, exhausted. And a little bit of the old Break, the one who had occupied the Rainsworth windowsills when Liam had been a teenager, hovering beneath the surface—the one who had lost everything. He hadn't changed out of his clothing from the party.

"Xerx," he murmured, and was relieved when Break turned his face toward him and that haunted look disappeared. But he still looked tired and irate, and Liam wondered if his wound was causing him too much pain. "Can't sleep?"

"Not like this." Break grimaced at him, tugging futilely at his hair to illustrate. "What did you do—glue them in?"

Liam was startled for a moment; he hadn't expected the hairpins to be bothering him more than the deep slash in his side. But, really, he should have expected it. Break's scalp had always been sensitive; in fact, sometimes when they wanted to be close but were too tired to be bothered with sex, Liam ran his hands through his hair, and that was often enough for Break.

Break had been incredibly displeased to learn that his hair had to be bound for the party, at least privately, and he had been a bit snippy the entire time Liam had been pinning it up—he had, after all, been Sharon's playmate for several of her formative years, and learning to style hair in ornate ways had been almost mandatory.

"If you kept your hair at a manageable length, you wouldn't have this problem, Xerxes," Liam deadpanned.

He managed not to laugh at the look on Break's face only because he knew if he did it would hurt. They both knew that wouldn't happen. Liam couldn't even _imagine_ Xerxes Break with short hair, but that could in part be because when he had first seen him, lying bloody on the stone floor in front of the Rainsworth Door, his hair had been even longer.

"Come here."

Break knew not to sit on the bed, and instead slid to the floor beside it, leaning his head back in Liam's direction.

His left arm was bound to his side, but, despite aching, his right one had limited mobility. Liam brought it up to feel the two pins that needed to be pulled out simultaneously in order to let the hair free.

Break's hair was like Break himself: it had refused to be tamed at first. In fact, just about the only way Liam had been able to give it some semblance of order was by using a ridiculous number of bobby pins, using each one to strengthen the hold of the last. The final two bore the load together.

Unfortunately, it wasn't something that could be undone with one hand, especially not when that hand didn't have much strength behind it.

"I need a second hand," Liam admitted, and Break immediately reached back.

He carefully guided Break's fingers to the appropriate pin, and then pinched the other between his index finger and thumb.

"Pull now."

The moment the pins released the hair they were holding, the rest of his hair shifted. A rain of bobby pins hit the floor as his hair freed itself, cascading down his shoulders where it belonged.

Break sighed in relief, tilting his head forward, and Liam gently carded his hand through white locks, teasing out the remaining pins and letting them drop to the floor.

He was only halfway done when the ache in his arm became too much to bear, and he had to stop.

"I can't do the rest, Xerx. I'm sorry."

Liam had expected to take the bobby pins out after the party, under different circumstances, but they had to make do. He hadn't ever intended for Break to wait—if he had known, he would have shown him how to take it down. But, then, if he had known…

Break turned and frowned at him, and that was the extent of the scolding he received for the apology.

The older man ran his hands through his own hair, sending more pins to the floor, before he groped for Liam's hand and brought it to his lips. Liam had a feeling that they'd still be finding bobby pins in his hair for a few days.

They sat in silence for a moment, Break leaning against the side of the bed, his head resting against the side of the mattress, Liam fighting back exhaustion.

"You should change out of those clothes." It was the only thing Liam could think to say. Or, rather, the only thing he could think to say that wouldn't require a _discussion_ that neither of them would be able to handle at the moment.

Break smiled at the nagging tone Liam had forced into his voice. "After _you_ drink some water. Doctor's orders."

Liam had a vague memory of being told that he needed to replace the fluids—the blood—he had lost, and so he didn't protest when Break let go of his hand and brought over a glass of water. He couldn't help but smile when he saw that Break had made a paper straw for him, one that bent so he could easily sip from it.

When he finished drinking—Break insisted on two glasses, and by the time he was done the straw was soggy and falling apart—he settled into a more comfortable position, further on his side with his right arm tucked against his body. He was nearly asleep when the mattress shifted beneath him.

Liam was concerned, when he felt Break slowly scooting closer, that he'd accidentally jostle his injuries. It was hard enough to handle the pain without that.

But before he could worry, Break slid under the covers against his back, avoiding the shoulder and instead nuzzling the back of his neck. For once, Liam was going to be the little spoon, it seemed. Break's arm slipped around him, carefully avoiding his injuries.

Without sight, that meant that someone had described his injuries. And that someone couldn't be Gilbert because Gilbert had…

"You told her," Liam murmured, not letting himself finish that thought.

A sharp inhale against the back of his neck told him he'd surprised Break with his realization.

"Sometimes I think you read minds," Break mock-grumbled. "You were right. She's grown up."

"Of course I was."

Liam felt Break's lips curve into a little smile against the back of his neck. "She insisted on teaching me to dance."

"She has you wrapped around her little finger."

In truth, Liam was surprised; Break had always avoided that, usually by finding reasons not to go to fancy functions—something that had become easier when Sharon had contracted with Eques and she was excluded from even having a coming of age ceremony.

"I'm sorry I missed it," he murmured. He felt the smile melt from Break's face at the inadvertent mention of what had happened, and he quickly continued. "How many times did you step on her feet?"

"I didn't," Break huffed at that. His voice didn't give him away, but it was clear from the tension of his body that Liam had ruined the mood. "I would rather have been with you."

Everything that was wrapped in those words… An apology for not protecting him, for not going with him to search for the Sealing Stone even though it hadn't been his duty, and…

Liam refused to think about it, chose to misunderstand on purpose.

"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered. "If we'd danced, it would have caused a scene."

He made sure that the _Shut up, Xerxes; we're not talking about this right now_ was obvious in his tone.

"There's an idea." Break laughed softly and relaxed a bit, and the response told him that the subject was being dropped for the moment. "Go back to sleep, Liam."

Liam sighed appreciatively when Break nuzzled the back of his neck, gently rubbing away tension that had been there since the attack in the hall when—and he wasn't going to think about that right now.

The warmth of Break at his back, the feeling of being held, and the feeling of his soft breath against the back of his neck all combined to ease him into a pleasant doze.

Liam found that he rather liked being the small spoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another headverse fic. Someone mentioned Break's hairpins, and this kind of leapt into my head a few nights ago as I was dozing off. This was my first opportunity to write it.


End file.
